


Sweet Revenge

by Mindblower55



Category: South Park
Genre: Butchering Mythology, F/F, F/M, If you don't know what that means... you'll find out, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, More than just Kenny Deaths, Multi, Mythology - Freeform, POV Multiple, True Gender-Neutral Character, Unreliable Narrator, superhero personas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 20:29:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14197131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mindblower55/pseuds/Mindblower55
Summary: Everything exists in a state of equilibrium. For there to be predators, there must be prey. For there to be right, there must be wrong. For there to be heroes, there must be villains. South Park has many heroes, but only the one villain. It does not have equilibrium.It must have equilibrium.There must either be less heroes or more villains. Will our heroes survive the inevitable culling, or will a new evil rise from the shadows?Only time can tell.





	1. In the Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> I know my summary sucks, and I'm sure there will be huge mistakes throughout the story, but it's my first time writing so that's acceptable.  
> Right?  
> Tagging is unbelievably hard. I had to cut back on them to keep my secrets secret. Maybe I'll add more as we progress.  
> Honestly I'll probably forget. 
> 
> Story begins where TFBW ends.  
> Spoilers for SoT and TFBW

* * *

New Kid

* * *

 

_Finally._

 

_It's finally over._

_I can finally relax!_ I've been living in this town for six... maybe seven days? I don't even know anymore. But I'm pretty sure it's been less than two weeks. In this short a time, I've already been abducted by aliens, started and stopped a Nazi zombie apocalypse, met Santa Clause, talked to the Christ and the Anti-Christ (read: Jesus and Damien), and killed weird, talking, satanic forest animals. There's no way I would've believed I'd do any of this a year ago. But now I'm here, and now I've done all of that shit. The fact that this town even exists is amazing. It's astounding. It's...it's 

 

It's a lot to take in.

 

To have your innocence stolen so suddenly, so brutally. Uncomfortable doesn't begin to describe it. It downright painful, maddening. All of the things that I thought were fake and made-up, are real and exist in this little mountain town. In this town where the adults practically ignore the kids, and the kids fuck with the forces of nature on the daily. 

I guess it keeps things interesting around here. It's a small town, so there really isn't much for a kid to do. I mean, I could stay inside and play video games all day, waste away eating cheesy snacks and drinking sugary drinks.

_Ah. That sounds perfect. Why the hell did I start hanging out with those assholes again?_

_Oh yeah. Dad kicked me out the house. Asshat wanted me to go out and 'find a friend'._ Instead, all I found were a bunch of arrogant assholes. _Well, I guess not **all** of the kids are assholes. There are a few of them I like._ I'm just pissed that they dragged me into their stupid rivalries.

All I wanted to do was play superheroes with them. Just find a missing cat, collect our reward, and go home they told me. Instead, we uncovered and busted at least three crime syndicates, discovered cat urine in people's drugs and alcohol, and were sent back in time to fight ourselves. Just because Cartman wanted to be mayor. _My ribs still hurt from when I punched myself... er... punched my past self. Or did he... I punch me... er... future me._   _Damn, that's just too confusing._

We've been back in our own time for... forty minutes or so, I think. _That is if we're in our own time._ It'd probably be better to say we returned from the past. Not that I know how we all got back. I know Cartman came back with me, but, everyone else was left in our Stick of Truth time. I know I didn't go back to get them, and I doubt King-of-Zaron me would've brought them back. So they should've been stuck 3 days in the past. Unless a future me somehow went back to returned them to now. _Fuck, I hate time travel. Humans weren't made to think in 4 dimensions._

As far as I understand it, everything you do while moving through time changes all of time from that point forward. I didn't remember seeing myself or fighting myself until after we had gone back to that time to do it. Now I remember fighting myself as both Buttlord and King Douchebag. I'm sure the others must be thinking the same thing. We changed the past by going there, so we must be in a new time, in a new South Park. Anything could be different. The 'us' of this time could have never left and are about to meet themselves somewhere in town. So far, none of us has met a copy of ourselves, but that doesn't mean it couldn't happen. For all we know, we could all be dead in this time or we could've never existed. I doubt the parents will take kindly to suddenly having kids. 

After we got back to our own time, and after kicking Cartman's ass for trying to become mayor, we turned Scrambles over to its owner and collected our reward money. Returning to the Freedom Pals' basement, we prepared to call Netflix and Kickstart our first series, then realized we lost our plan. The Coon destroyed Professor Timothy's work, and no one in their right mind would want to follow Cartman's movie plan. So we're left with a hundred dollars and nothing to spend it on. 

Upon realizing that fact, everyone starts arguing and bickering, trying to claim the money for themselves. Everyone except for myself, Token, and Craig. Token doesn't need the money, since he's rich, and I think Craig just doesn't care. Token is just standing off to the side, watching everyone, probably making sure they won't break anything, and Craig is comforting Tweek by the stairs. _I thought it sounded more like he was worried about something. He did start pulling at his hair immediately. Guess that must be his tell. I knew he had trouble dealing with anxiety, but I didn't think it was that bad._

Me? I couldn't care less about their argument. I probably wouldn't join in if I did talk to them. So, I just take the money and leave, nodding to Craig and Tweek as I walk past. I know Craig doesn't notice in his attempt to calm Tweek down, but Tweek looks up at me, trembling like a leaf and emerald eyes full of fear. _I can't just leave while he's in the middle of a panic attack. I'm not that much of an asshole. And, Tweek's cool, I wouldn't want him to hate me._ Stopping at the door, I turn around and try to lock eyes with the blond. When he notices my gaze on him, his shaking gets worse and he starts muttering something to Craig. I can only assume it was about the kid that's been staring at him for the last couple seconds because Craig immediately turns around and looks in my direction. His face neutral, but his eyes burning in fury.

Before he could say anything, I offer them my sweetest smile and a small wave. The effect was immediate. Shock replaces the emotion in their eyes and they freeze on the spot. Tweek's trembling stops and his fingers untangle themselves from his hair. At the same time, the fire stops burning in Craig's eyes and he loses his neutral expression. _I don't know what emotion he's wearing, but it's far from normal._   _Atleast they don't look scared or angry anymore, just amazed._ I can't really say I'm surprised, they just received a rare display of emotion from me, who they deemed practically emotionless. _It was worth breaking that facade to help my friends. God, I hope they think of me as their friend._ _At the very least, they don't hate me, right?_ Before they can break out of their stupor, I quickly flee the basement and start on my way home. That's where I am now, walking past Stan's house, a hundred dollars richer. 

 _I can't believe they just let me walk out like that._ My hands resting in my pockets, I feel the crinkle of the small bills.  _Why did she have to pay us in fives anyway? Not that I'm complaining. Money is money._  The corners of my lips turn up into a small smile.  _And I got to mess with Tweek and Craig. I expected I might scare Tweek a bit (not that that was my plan or anything), but I didn't expect to break Craig's mask of indifference like that. Hopefully, they won't be too mad at me. I'm sure they'll all forget about this tomorrow._ Cartman will probably blame Kyle for stealing the money, probably call him a 'sneaky jew'. Then, Kyle will offend the fatass and they'll start arguing about how fat he is or something, and everyone will forget I was even there. Poof. Instant solution.

I probably should feel bad about stealing their money... But... I don't. The way I see it, I've earned it. I did all the work, so, I took the whole reward. It's only fair. They did make me kill my parents after all. As if I'd forget that little detail. At the very least, the money will hold me over until I can get a job and find a cheap lawyer to sue them. 

 _Doesn't Kenny work at City Wok? Maybe Mr. Lu Kim_ _will hire me too. Expand his child labor force. Then I wouldn't have to worry about food and could earn a little money._ Trying not to think about how illegal such a workforce is, I almost didn't notice I was passing Cartman's house. Kupa Keep proudly towers over the fence. _Ugh. I hope I never have to set foot in there again. I figured Cartman would at least act like he didn't name it the Kingdom of Kupa Keep so he could get away with calling it the KKK. Just how racist is he anyway? At least_ _, I'm almost home. I'll go in, change out of this stupid costume, and then go talk to Mr. Lu Kim. It'd be weird to show up in costume. He was told to kill the kid covered in flame and a pair of wings after all. Who decided that a blaster had to have flames and fake wings on their uniform anyway?_

As I'm walking past Butters' house, Mr. Stotch opens his door and grabs the newspaper lying on the doormat. Without a word, he looks up at me, then turns around and heads back inside, like he's done every other time I've walked past his house.  _Damn, he's creepy. And he always looks so... hungry when he looks at me. He isn't a vampire or something, is he?_  It's probably the only thing that makes sense. If he can't eat human food, then I could understand why he'd be hungry. Why else would he look at me like I'd make the perfect snack? 

 _Speaking of food, when was the last time I ate?_ As if summoned by the thought, my stomach rumbles.  _Heh. It's been too long then. I wonder if I have any of dad's meatloaf left?_ Upon reaching the house, I immediately go to open the door.  _Maybe I'll actually eat it to-_

 

"No, you're the snuggle bunny"

 

_...What the fuck?_

 

_How?!_

 

_How are they still alive?!_

 

Sitting on the arm of my couch are two beings that are undoubtedly my parents. I'd recognize my dad's amber eyes and dark hair anywhere. I could say the same about my mom's own sapphire orbs.  _B-but that's impossible. They're dead. I watched them die... I CUT OFF HIS HEAD!! How are they here? How did they come back?! Why... Why are they acting so... strange?_

They're all over each other... Literally... Mom is sitting on dad's lap and they're being disgustingly cute. They've never gotten along before... Most days I wonder why they were still married.  What happened? 

 

...

 

 _Don't tell me... Is this because of that stupid time thing with Cartman? What the hell?!_  The only thing that's different is that they told me they were hiding pills in my food. Did that change their relationship? The pills weren't even that well hidden... 

But how did that bring them back to life? What kept Cartman from kidnapping and killing them again? And why did that completely change the dynamics of their relationship?

 

... 

 

Whatever it doesn't matter. They're here now, so I can't really complain. Guess I don't need to get a job anymore, and I can't really sue Cartman without any evidence... But, I'm not giving their money back. If they didn't notice it was gone, they don't deserve it. Realizing I'm still standing in the doorway, I quickly close the door and head towards the kitchen. _Just because they're somehow alive again, doesn't mean I'm not still hungry._ As I'm passing by, I take a closer look at my 'new and improved' parents. 

_Huh. That's weird._

Around dad's neck is a line of raw, inflamed flesh. It almost looks like a pink tattoo. It's one solid line completely circling his neck with no obvious start or end points and no interruptions or any other imperfections. Glancing over at mom, I see that she has similar marks on her arms. Except, her marks aren't perfect, they're more... broken, irregular. Less like a tattoo and more like a scar. Like the flesh was roughly torn apart and sloppily put back together. _Those definitely aren't tattoos... W_ _help, there goes my appetite._

The stench of blood floods my senses. I can feel the sticky substance slide between my fingers, down my face, across my lips. The taste of copper explodes along my tongue as dripping echoes through the room. The mass I hold in my hands is one I recognize. One that I have seen hundreds of thousands of times. The familiar olive skin, slowly losing it color. The familiar black locks glistening in the almost yellow light. The familiar amber eyes, watching, holding on to the last fading embers of lif-

_NO!!_

_Stop!_ I am acutely aware of my shaking hand and knees, but I can't seem to stop them.  _That's too much. I d_ _on't want to see anymore. I don't want to remember anymore. They're here now. They're alive. That's all that matters._

 _..._ _That's all that matters..._

This has been a long, roller-coaster of a day. The ups were great. The downs were... not so great.   _I just want to go to sleep and pretend none of this ever happened._ With my new goal in mind, I start towards the stairs in the corner of the room.  _Maybe I'll actually get to sleep for onc-_

"In fact...," begins my father, pulling me from my thoughts, as he and my mother stand up. _Have they been talking to me this whole time?_ "Kiddo, would you excuse us for a moment. Mommy and Daddy have a little BUSINESS to take care of upstairs," he finishes before they race up the stairs.

 

...

 

 _What just happened? Did I miss something? It must've been really important for them to run off like that._ The last time I saw my dad with that mischievous glint in his eye, I walked in on him, high off his rocker and prancing around wearing my kingly crown and cape, and claiming to be the Lord of Pot-troplis. Long may he reign.

 

...

 

Nope, I didn't hear a word they said. And knowing them, I'm going to regret not listening. I swear, I must be more mature than my parents. Most days they're more childish then I am. If they're not hungover, drunk, or stoned, then they're playing like kids or trying to kill each other. A few days ago, I caught them staring suspiciously at each other from across the living room, a gun hidden behind each of their backs and some type of murder-porn playing on the TV. Needless to say, I confiscated their weapons and blocked the channel. Clearly, I couldn't trust them alone in the house with possible murder weapons. So I took them with me. It made me look like an even more undeniable king, walking around with a pair of handguns on my hips. I'm pretty sure I shot at a kid once, just to prove they were real. No one dared to fuck with me or anyone in my inner circle. My circle being the blond squad and Craig. Tweek, Kenny, Butters, and Craig were irreplaceable assets to me. Especially whenever Cartman or Kyle tried to steal the kingdom out from under me. 

 _Wonder what happened to them?_   I think I might of trade the guns for that bejeweled golden hammer. Why Jimbo had a bejeweled golden hammer, who cares? Who am I to judge what a man does in his private time. Right now, all of my weapons are sitting somewhere in my room from when we finished that game.

 

...

 

The sigh that escapes my lips could've woke the dead. _What's it gonna be this time... are they innocently playing with something or are they trying to kill each other again? Ugh... I'm too tired for this shit. They'll still be alive if I leave them alone for a couple of hours right?_

 

...

 

 _No..._ Somehow they'll both be dead and I'll find the house painted red in goat's blood or something. That's if the house is still here... I have all those weird alien weapons in my room too. Who knows what damage they could do.

I doubt mom or dad could've bought more guns, not after I confiscated their licenses, and had Jimbo ban them from his store. It's not like they need to drive anyway. You can walk wherever you need to go in this town. So if they wanted a weapon, they'd have to go to my room to get it. Weird concept isn't it. A child parenting his parents. But, a job is a job. It's probably in my best interests to make sure they stay alive. 

With a new goal in mind and my shaking settled, I walk to the staircase and slowly climb up the stairs.  _There's no need to hurry, I'm sure they'll be fine._  I probably should be more worried about my extremely childish parents handling incredibly dangerous and impressively lethal alien weapons, but this wouldn't be the first time they got their hands on one of my ray guns or laser rifles.

Heh. I even gave them a couple once. It took them two and a half hours to figure out how to turn to turn the safety off. So, I'm not too worried. What damage could they possibly cause in three minutes?

Eventually reaching the top of the stairs, I slowly saunter towards my room, studying my surroundings as I go along. _Hmm... Wasn't that vase blue before? Why'd we get a green one this time?_  Quickly losing interest in the vase, I turn my attention to the closed door in front of me. It is flawlessly painted an eggshell white and its handle is sparkling like newly formed crystal. It's completely lost its slightly worn appearance, having replaced it with one that looks good as new. No, is literally new. Like no one has ever laid eyes on it before, let alone touched it.

 _Come to think of it, the living room was painted a different color too._ I feel like I'm on one of those house makeover shows. Is someone going to jump out at me and yell 'surprise' or something? 'Cause I swear I'll punch him in the face.

 _Fuck, I don't have time for any of these pointless tangents. I want to get to sleep at some point today._ But making sure my parents are still alive comes first. Even if the alien weapons are useless to them, I still have swords and shit under my bed. Reaching out, I grip the unblemished handle and open the door to find...

Nothing.

Well, obviously not nothing. I can see all my stuff is still inside. Just there's no one in the room. 

... In fact... Nothing changed in the room either. Whereas everything outside of the door is newly painted or brand new, the paint on the inside looks a few years old, the walls look to be fading and the carpet is an off-white color. Everything is exactly how it was before we fucked with time. _Weird..._ But clearly my parents didn't come in here, they would of left fingerprints on the door handle. So, they must've gone to their own room... Or the bathroom... I doubt they went to the bathroom together. No matter how extravagant it must be now, it's still a bathroom.

With one last sweeping gaze over the room to make sure nothing is out of place, I turn around and walk back into the empty hall. Choosing not to dawdle around this time, I make a beeline for my parents' bedroom door.

As I'm getting closer to the closed door, I start hearing an almost rhythmic thump sound from the room. _Ugh... Don't tell me they got a drum set._ Dad always did like playing the drums. He practically begged us to get him a drum set for Christmas last year. Mom put her foot down and refused in the end, and he was left looking disappointed and sulked around the house for a month. _But that doesn't really sound like a snare drum, did they get a ritualistic tribal drum or something? I guess the quickest way to find out is to check for myself._

Knowing they always lock their door when they enter their room, I go straight to looking through the keyhole. It's dark in the room, so it takes a minute for my eye to adjust. When it finally does, I begin to take in the room. The layout seems to be about the same, with the bed in the midd... Fuck...

 

They're fucking. Again. 

 

That's different. I thought the last time was just a fluke. They've never seemed to get along, so I just assumed the last time was hate fucking or something. That's not to say it wasn't traumatizing. No kid should have to worry about being crushed by his father's balls. I wonder if that's wha-

"Ha ha ha," I nearly jump out of my skin. Peeling myself away from the keyhole, I search for the source of the unexpected voice. Not that I have to look very hard. Standing a few feet behind me is none other than Butters Stotch.

_How long has he been standing there? I was sure the hall was empty just a minute ago._

"Did you really think you could stop bad things from happening?" Butters...no Professor Chaos questions menacingly. "Don't you see that Chaos always catches up with you?" _What is he talking about? He couldn't have seen me take the money from Freedom Pals... He wasn't there... Was he?_  

"You've tried being a hero...," Chaos smoothly closes the distance between us and places a hand on my shoulder, "Why not let your darker side free?"

 _Oh. He just wants me to join his team._ Smart. Deciding to try and convert the guy with the weakest sense of loyalty to his own team. I've gotta give it to Chaos, it was a great idea, almost wish I thought of it myself. But isn't the 'mistreated hero turned villain' thing a bit...cliche? It's almost something I'd expect Cartman to do. 

"No matter how hard you try to change the past...your dad will always have fucked your mom," he finishes with a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

 

...

 

_Ugh..._

_Is that the 'bad thing' he was talking about?_ I couldn't have sighed any deeper. _I want to correct him. I really want to correct him... But ...I just... I just can't._ Most of the time, Butters' innocence is incredibly adorable, but the other half the time, it is absolutely infuriating. And right now, adorable is the furthest thing from my mind. _Why does he want me to be a villain anyway?_

"General Disarray quit the game... So, will you be my new partner, New Kid?" he says, seemingly unperturbed by my earlier reaction.

 _Oh yeah... We did sorta make that kid quit._ Between Cartman's stupid comments about gingers and midgets, and the rest of our general badassery, I guess we kinda pushed him out of the game. I'd feel a bit responsible... _But I don't want to be a villain. He'll probably just give me another stupid name to go with my stupid backstory that will give me more stupid powers. Just like Cartman did the last time._

"Oh, gee, New Kid. Ya don't have to decide now. I'm givin' ya another option. You can do what ya want to do, it'll be nothin' like this last time," Butters responds to my unspoken thoughts.

_Did... Did he just read my mind?!  How else could he have known what I was thinking? I thought Timmy was the only one who could read minds. But Timmy's a mutant. I thought Butters was human. Has he always known what I was thinking?! Does he know what I'm thinking right no-_

"Of course, I can't read minds," Butters giggles. Squinting my eyes at him unconvincingly, I slowly start to take steps back.  "It's written all over your face," he's clearly struggling to hold in his laughter.

I'm shocked. No one's ever been able to read me. Everyone just assumed I was a stoic and uncaring bastard. I've gone through hundreds of "psychics" and "mind-readers" and none of them have ever come close. Now Butters comes along and says he can not only tell what I'm feeling but can tell what I'm thinking at a glance... Amazing. _Maybe I should've opened up to the blond squad and Craig sooner. Fuck, I need a better name for them._

"I've gotta go. Kenny and I are cleanin' the U-Stor-It in an hour. But, just, think about it will ya, New Kid?" Butters questions hopefully. _I really don't want to be a villain, but I can't just dash his hopes right off the bat, can I? Maybe I can find another kid to be his partner._ Giving him a small smile, which could of just of easily been mistaken for a frown, I nod. He seems to accept that with a much more genuine smile of his own before turning away and starting down the stairs. "Later New Kid, see ya at school tomorrow," he calls as he walking out the front door.

 _Tomorrow? I thought today was Friday. Fuck, I was so ready for the weekend._  With a barely audible groan, I start shuffling towards my room. The noises have stopped coming from my parents' room, so they must've finished already. I didn't expect them to last that long. They aren't teenagers anymore. 

Decidedly ignoring the flawless nature of my door, I enter the room and walk towards the bed. _Maybe I can catch up on some sleep. Who knows when I'll next get a chance._ I'm dreading waking up tomorrow morning, knowing I'll have to deal with those bastards and that game again. My eyelids are already feeling heavy, and my bed is looking more inviting by the second. Crawling under the blankets, I can't find it in myself to care that I'm still fully dressed. I don't care that my hair is probably more brown than the black it should be. A little dirt won't do me any harm. I took my shoes off at least. Shoes are uncomfortable. As the desire to sleep overwhelms me, I blink once, then twice, and...

There's a box. There's a blue box sitting on my legs. A blue box just a bit bigger than a shoe box with a red ribbon.  _A gift? A gift from who? And how did it just appear out of thin air?_ Pushing the inevitable questions and bubbling paranoia to the side, I examine the 'gift' more closely. Taped to the side facing me is a sheet of paper. A note with only five words.

  


> _ It is Tyme to begin~ A _

  


_Oh... Ok_. I have no idea what that means. But it must be a gift for me, so I might as well open it. Grabbing the ribbon, I pull the lid off the box and dump its content over to the side. Looking over the contents I find that it's... A new costume? Yeah, it's definitely a new costume, I can clearly see a new mask among other clothing.

 

... 

 

 _Oh, so that's what the note meant. Cheeky bastard. Why does he always have to be so fucking cryptic?_ I still want to sleep, but I can't help but be excited. _I can't wait for tomorrow. This might be fun!_


	2. God Created

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need to thank you all for your support. I don't know if I ever would of finished the second chapter without it.
> 
> For those who pay attention, you'll see I changed the summary. If you didn't notice take a look now. I feel it encompass what I want from this story more than it did before. 
> 
> Just one last thing before I let you go on to the story. In every chapter, in every comment, in every little detail, I've hidden secrets that point to things that'll be uncovered sometime in the future. If you find any of them, tell me. If you think you've found one, tell me, I'll try to point you in the right direction. I want to see people discover my secrets before I release them. It makes things more fun, both for me and, hopefully, for you. 
> 
> Again, thank you for your support and please enjoy.

_This is so fucking boring._

 

The last hour of school always seems to last forever. Especially on Fridays, when everyone is preparing for the weekend. Even so, this is my favorite time of the day. Every day, Stan’s gang falls asleep for the last hour or two of class. 

 

It's great.

 

An hour of peace. An hour to relax and pretend to listen to whatever our asshole teacher has to say. It's the only time I don't have to think about getting caught in another one of their shit “money-making” plan. I can just relax and imagine the next few blissful hours of watching Red Racer with Tweek. 

 

That's how it normally is at least. 

 

The day started out just like any other. Our class was normal, the ride to school was boring, and Stan’s gang was annoying. Then everything went to shit at lunch.

 

“Hurry up guys, we’re going to miss it!” Clyde screams as he tries to pull Token down the hall. He's clearly not moving the boy any faster, but he continues to try anyway.

 

“It's just pizza, Clyde. We have it literally every week.” Holding onto Tweek’s hand, we follow after our odd pair of friends. 

 

“I-it’s not even good -ngh- pizza,” Tweek grumbles. “It’s the shit s-schools buy in bulk.”

 

“Who cares, dude. Pizza is pizza. And I love pizza.” Finally seeing he's getting nowhere trying to pull the boy along, Clyde loops around and tries to push Token instead. “So let's hurry up so I can get some.”

 

“What don't you love, Clyde?” Seemingly unphased by the boy pushing him, Token jumps into the conversation. “Just today, I've heard you say you loved pizza, tacos, cupcakes-”

 

“That's not fair. Everyone loves Tweek’s cupcakes.” Distracted by the subject of food, Clyde finally stops pushing Token and starts walking alongside us. “Even Craig likes them, and he doesn't like anything but Tweek and his guinea pig.”

 

 _He’s not wrong._ I squeeze Tweek’s hand in confirmation and flip Clyde off with the other. _Clyde would think there's something wrong with me if I actually said it though._

 

“So, there's nothing wrong with me loving everything”

 

I roll my eyes as we walk through the open cafeteria doors. “Clyde th- What the fuck?” 

 

Almost every kid in the room is crowded near the center of the room. Standing on top of a table in the middle of the crowd is a weird brown kid wrapped in a red cloth. Not brown like Token brown, but brown like toast or baked bread.

 

“Come one, come all, see the amazing Pizza Boy.” Cartman climbs up onto the table next to the apparent ‘Pizza Boy’. He's dressed like the ringmaster in a circus and is waving his arms about as he addresses the crowd. “He is made entirely of pizza. You heard me right people, ENTIRELY of pizza.”

 

Taking another look at the weird kid, I see that Carman probably isn't totally bullshitting. The kid’s face is completely flat. He doesn't have a nose or ears or any lips. Actually, he doesn't have any discernible features. He's so generic, he almost looks like a stick figure.

 

“You’ll never see anything else like him. His eyes are pepperonis, his blood is tomato sauce, and he pisses fucking grease! He is literally a living pizza!” Although Cartman’s spouting all this shit, all I see is a brown statue with pepperoni glued on it. Apparently, I am the only one who thinks so. Everyone else’s eyes are glued to the thing.

 

“You are all extremely lucky to be here now. I’m about to give you the deal of a lifetime. For one dollar, Pizza Boy will move for you. For two dollars, you can shake his hand. For three dollars, he’ll talk to you. And for five fucking dollars, he'll perform for you: dance, sing, there isn't anything he can't do. You'll never get another opportunity like this one, take advantage of it now!”

 

 _Oh for fuck’s sake. It's just another one of their stupid plans._ Immediately, Clyde rushes forward to try and get to the front of the crowd. Token follows after him, a disapproving look painted on his face.

 

“Come on, babe. Let’s go get lunch.” I say, pulling Tweek away from the group and towards the deserted lunchline. “You know that's just a statue, right?”

 

“O-of course, man. I'm not that g-gullible.” 

 

“Clyde is though,” I mumble under my breath. Tweek’s laugh rings out as we reach our table. Most people would probably find his laugh annoying. It's a squeaky sort of sound like he can't get enough air. But, I think it’s one of the cutest things I've ever heard.

 

“Yeah. I t-think Clyde was really hoping it would- Oh God, it's fucking moving!!” 

 

Immediately Tweek’s eyes are blown wide as he stares back at the previously immobile statue doing… the robot?

 

“Oh god, it's alive!! The pizza is a-alive!! Oh god, it's going to hate us for e-eating pizza!! It's going to eat us!! I don't want to be eaten yet!!” Tweek is freaking out. From my place beside him, I was barely able to stop him from pulling out his hair.

 

“Tweek, honey, relax. It's probably just McCormick wearing a suit. There's nothing to worry about. He's not going to eat you.” I say in my most calming monotone. There must be a logical explanation. _Wait… yet?_

 

“It's not Kenny. Kenny is sitting over there!” He tries to move his arm to point but gives up when he realizes I have his arms pinned to his side. Instead, he nods in a direction. Following his nod, I see McCormick actually is sitting at one of the other tables. 

 

“Then it’s Butters. You know Cartman loves to manipulate Butters.” 

 

“Butters is sitting with Kenny!!” Tweek redoubles his attempts to reach his hair. _Fuck, I'm struggling to convince myself at this point._ He's fighting hard against me. I'm actually having trouble keeping his arms down. Scratch that. I'm having a lot of trouble keeping his arms down. _I almost forgot how strong he could be. I guess boxing did a lot for him._

 

“Uh… Then…” I'm getting a little worried now. I've run out of people to name. Looking back at ‘Pizza Boy’, he seems to be dancing with Wendy. _Who else would've gone along with one of Cartman’s plans? Kyle can't dance and Stan can't even look at Wendy without throwing up. Everyone else tries not to get involved with any of Cartman's shenanigans. No one that knew him would- Oh!_ “Then it's the New Kid.” _It couldn't be anyone else._

 

“It's not the New Kid. He's- Gah!!” Instantly, Tweek stops struggling. His arms go limp and he seems to freeze on the spot. “H-he’s d-doing it a-again.” Following his gaze, I see he isn't looking at the dancing ‘Pizza Boy’ anymore. Instead, he's staring at the lone boy sitting at the girl's table. Said boy is turned around and staring right back at us. 

 

It'd be fine if he was just staring. He stares at everyone. It's normal for him. But, no. He's not just staring at us. He's staring at us and **smiling**. I can't blame Tweek for being terrified. He's been smiling at us all day. On the bus, in the halls, in class. Everywhere we've gone today, he's been staring and smiling. Then before anyone else can see, he drops back to neutral, as if nothing ever happened. 

 

I've gotta admit, it's kinda creepy.

 

And it pisses me off.

 

Wrapping my arms around Tweek and pulling him close, I give my best ‘don't fuck with us’ face and flip the kid off. Without skipping a beat, the noirette’s smile is replaced by an amused smirk and he gives us a friendly wave, before turning back to his lunch. Again, no one seems to notice our brief interaction.

 

 _What is wrong with that kid? Did I do something to piss him off? He hasn't ever smiled before. Actually, I don't think I've ever seen any emotion from him before_.

 

“Oh god, he gonna to kill me! My p-parents must have spit in his coffee, o- o-or something!” Tweek’s panic pulls me out of my thoughts.

 

He's still wrapped in my arms, so I just rest my chin on his shoulder. “He's not going to kill you, Tweek. I wouldn’t let him.” 

 

_Holding Tweek is nice. I don't ever want to let him go. That asshole gave me the opportunity to hug Tweek under the guise of calming him down. Maybe I should thank him? Nah. He's probably just trying to freak us out. No need to thank an asshole for being an asshole._

 

It feels like we’re the only two people in the world. I know there are other people in the room, but I'm not hearing them. It's just me and Tweek in this moment. _I wish it could last forever._

 

What feels like seconds later, Tweek taps my arm. “I'm o-okay now, Craig. You c-can let me go.” 

 

 _But I don't want to let go_. “Okay.” Reluctantly, I let my arms drop and turn towards my lunch. Seeing that my pizza is cold, I pull out my phone and glance at the time. _12:55 huh_. It's been 25 minutes since lunch started. _Screw eating lunch. I'll just eat at home._ From the way Tweek is glaring at his tray, I guess he had the same idea. So we just settle in and talk about nothing for the remaining 20 minutes of lunch. 

 

Or, at least, that was the plan.

 

5 minutes into our discussion, blood-curdling screams fill the air. It doesn't take a genius to guess where they're coming from. Before we have the chance to turn around, we hear a sound like concrete hitting flesh and see a kid fly past our table. 

 

Finally looking back towards the center of the room, we are shocked by the scene. Kids are running around every which way and in the center of them, is a giant Pizza Boy. As we're watching, cracks begin appearing along his face, forming into a crooked smile that would give the Joker nightmares. 

 

Quickly and almost silently, he squats down and grabs one of the students near him with a grace impossible for a creature his size. With a loud roar, ‘Pizza Boy’ opens his newly-formed mouth to reveal large yellow teeth. Then, with a sickening crunch, he bites the kid in half. Coating his face and nearby students in blood. 

 

“Oh my god! He killed Kenny!” Stan screams from somewhere.

 

“You bastard!” Kyle yells back from across the room.

 

From his place in the center of the room, Pizza Boy roars again, shattering the windows and lights. Seemingly done with his ‘meal’, he throws the lower half of his victim towards the cafeteria door. As it hits, the door swings open, draping the disembodied legs over a table. The coppery scent of blood fills the room as half of his stomach, his liver, and his kidneys spread out across the table. 

 

Three adults rush in through the open door. The first sees McCormick’s remains and immediately covers his mouth before running back out. The second looks at the kid that originally came flying towards the door then runs back out, probably to go get the nurse. And the third barrels through the panicking students, towards the center of the room, trying to calm them down as she goes.

 

Before she can do much good, Pizza Boy snatches her up and kicks down one of the walls. The crumbling of the concrete walls shakes me from my dazed state to see Pizza Boy escape the building, a screaming teacher in hand.

 

It's at this point, I realize Tweek isn't sitting next to me anymore. Almost in a panic, I scan the face of the still screaming students, half of which are covered in blood. I can't find him among the remaining students, so I turned to the door. _Maybe he ran out when everything started_. Next to the injured kid, I find my Tweek hiding under a table staring at the kid.

 

Walking over to him, I see he's rocking back and forth and whimpering some combination of “Oh my God” and “Is he dead?”. The injured kid’s face is royally fucked up, but as far as I can tell, he is still alive. 

 

“He's not dead, dude.” Tweek jumps at the sound of my voice, then visibly relaxes when he looks at me. Just knowing I have that type of effect on him makes my heart swell.

 

Nearly pulling the door off its hinges, PC Principal charges into the room, a meek Mr. Mackey following close behind. Taking a quick look around, PC Principal’s eyes pause once at the large hole in the wall and a second time when they reach the broken kid near us. 

 

“Mackey, take this student to the nurse and make sure they receive proper medical attention.” I can only assume Mr. Mackey responded with a couple M’kays or a ‘yes sir, Mr. PC Principal’. I completely tuned him out months ago, haven't heard a word he's said since. 

 

As he scrambles over and tries to lift this kid, PC Principal turns towards the center of the room. “As for the rest of you, return to your classrooms immediately. Classes will resume as normal.” Dismissing the assorted groans of the suddenly calm students, he turns around and watches Mr. Mackey’s pathetic attempt to drag this student off. 

 

It wasn't until an hour later that we found out the broken kid was Scott Malkinson. He had three broken ribs, a cracked skull, and was thought to be in a coma. 

 

Or something like that. 

 

I wasn't really paying attention to the announcement. I just listened to what Tweek said. I listen to everything Tweek says. 

 

That must've been one hard punch. That kid looked nothing like Scott. 

 

Before the incident, we were suppose to have some stupid English class or something. Apparently, our stupid fucking teacher got herself taken away by ‘Pizza Boy’. Now we're stuck with some old substitute they grabbed last minute. The hag’s hair is stark white and she has more wrinkles than a crumpled piece of paper. To top it all off, she didn't have anything planned. She crept in the classroom, turned on the projector, and started playing some video about Greek Gods or something before passing out at her desk. 

 

Under normal circumstances, I would've just left. But, PC Principal is sitting outside, waiting for one of us to ‘slip up’. So we're stuck in this stupid class for another two fucking hours. 

 

 _Gods, this is so fucking boring. I wish something, anything would happen._ Immediately, my phone vibrates in my pocket. Pulling it out, I see I have a new notification. 

 

 

> _**Butters Stotch** has invited you to “ **Friendlies** ” _

 

 _Why the hell is Butters inviting me to a group chat? And what kind of name is ‘Friendlies’. That's so fucking stupid._ Hitting ‘Decline’, I lock my phone is put my head on the desk. _Hopefully I can sleep through this shit._ Less than 30 seconds later, my phone vibrates again. _I swear if this is fucking Butters aga-_

 

 

> _**Tweek Tweak** has invited you to “ **Friendlies** ” _

 

I immediately hit accept. _What am I getting myself into?_

 

 

> _**Kenny McCormick:** dont worry Leo_
> 
> _I just felt a little sick_
> 
> _I'll be fine after a little sleep_
> 
>  
> 
> _**Butters Stotch:** well if you say so Ken_
> 
>  
> 
> _**Craig Tucker:** what the fuck is this Butters_
> 
>  
> 
> _**Butters Stotch:** oh hey craig_
> 
> _It's a group chat :D_
> 
>  
> 
> _**Craig Tucker:** i can fucking see that_
> 
> _Why the hell did you invite me_
> 
>  
> 
> _**Tweek Tweak:** yeah, why are we here? _
> 
>  
> 
> _**Butters Stotch:** oh_
> 
> _he wanted to invite yall_
> 
> _don't know why he didnt do it himself_
> 
>  
> 
> _**Craig Tucker:** who the hell is “he” _
> 
>  
> 
> _**New Kid:** …_
> 
>  
> 
> _**Craig Tucker:** oh fuck no. what the hell do you want_
> 
>  
> 
> _**New Kid:** … _
> 
>  
> 
> _**Craig Tucker:** are you serious?_
> 
> _Are you seriously just going to talk in dots??_
> 
>  
> 
> _**New Kid:** … _
> 
> _Of course fucking not. I was just fucking around._
> 
>  
> 
> _**Tweek Tweak:** oh my god, he can talk!! _
> 
>  
> 
> _**New Kid:** Of course I can talk. There's nothing wrong with me. And this isn't really talking. It's texting. :P_

 

From somewhere behind me, I hear a light giggling. Turning around, the New Kid is staring at me and grinning like he just won the lottery. 

 

 

> _**Craig Tucker:** why have you been doing that all fucking day_
> 
>  
> 
> _**New Kid:** Doing what? _
> 
>  
> 
> _**Craig Tucker:** staring, giggling, smiling_
> 
> _It's fucking creepy_
> 
>  
> 
> _**New Kid:** Oh, sorry… Honestly, I've been trying to work up the courage to go to to you. _
> 
>  
> 
> _**Tweek Tweak:** then why not just come up and talk to us? _
> 
> _Craig's not as scary as he seems, and i’ve always wanted to talk to you_
> 
>  
> 
> _**New Kid:** It's not that simple… _
> 
>  
> 
> _**Kenny McCormick:** yeah it is dude_
> 
> _Just open your mouth and let words fly out_
> 
>  
> 
> _**New Kid:** No it's not!! I haven't said a word in 8 fucking years. I'm fucking terrified of talking. What if I'm like Black Bolt and my voice could destroy the universe or something?! _
> 
> _Or, what if I lost my voice?!_
> 
>  
> 
> _**Kenny McCormick:** dude, you sound like tweek_
> 
>  
> 
> _**Craig Tucker:** you're not going to destroy the world by talking_
> 
>  

_I almost called him babe. Wow, he really does sound like Tweek._

 

>  
> 
> _**Tweek Tweak:** do I actually sound like that? _
> 
> _Wow. I am so sorry._
> 
>  
> 
> _**New Kid:** … _
> 
> _Fuck you guys…_
> 
>  
> 
> _**Kenny McCormick:** anytime ;) _
> 
>  
> 
> _**New Kid:** I was abducted by aliens and started a zombie apocalypse in my first 3 days here. Of course I'm a little paranoid. _
> 
> _This was my way to work up to talking._
> 
>  
> 
> _**Craig Tucker:** with a group chat named ‘Friendlies’ ?_
> 
>  
> 
> _**New Kid:** It was Butters’ idea… _
> 
>  
> 
> _**Butters Stotch:** gee, it sounded like a good idea to me _
> 
>  
> 
> _**New Kid:** It was a great idea Butters. But… _
> 
>  
> 
> _[ **New Kid** has changed this group chat name to **Blonde Harem** ] _
> 
>  
> 
> _**Tweek Tweak:** WHAT!!! _
> 
>  
> 
> _**Craig Tucker:** What the actual fuck_
> 
>  
> 
> _**Butters Stotch:** What's a harem? _
> 
>  
> 
> _**Kenny McCormick:** It's a group of good friends Leo_
> 
> _Really good friends ;)_
> 
>  
> 
> _**Butters Stotch:** oh, OK :D_
> 
>  
> 
> _**New Kid:** It's also the perfect name, since everyone here is blond. _
> 
>  
> 
> _**Craig Tucker:** Dude, I'm not blond and neither are you_
> 
>  
> 
> _**New Kid:** Uh... Yeah, I am. Dude look at me_
> 
>  

What the hell is he getting at? His hair is just as black as mine. I turn around in my seat to look for the noiret- _he's fucking blond!?_ Sitting 3 desks behind me, where I know he's been all class, is the same New Kid. Same yellow jacket, same forest green eyes, but he's running his fingers through blond fucking hair. His blond fucking hair. I know his hair was jet black less than five minutes ago. Now it is undeniably blond. It's just a shade darker than Tweek’s, but not as dark as Kenny’s. For once when I'm looking at him, he isn't staring back at me. He's looking at his phone and twiddling his thumbs. He must be typing another message. 

 

>  
> 
>  
> 
> _**New Kid:** I've always been blonde. You're the only one here that isn't. _
> 
>  
> 
> _**Craig Tucker:** … _
> 
> _Then why did you name it blonde harem if you know I'm not blond_
> 
>  
> 
> _**New Kid:** Someone has to own us, don't they? ;) _
> 
>  
> 
> _**Kenny McCormick:** oh ho ho. Craig you slydog. Going from having 1 blond beauty to 4_
> 
>  
> 
> _**Craig Tucker:** wait… What? _
> 
>  
> 
> _**New Kid:** All in favor of Craig being the leader say aye. _
> 
> _Aye!_
> 
>  
> 
> _**Kenny McCormick:** Aye_
> 
>  
> 
> _**Butters Stotch:** Aye_
> 
>  
> 
> _**New Kid:** It's decided. _
> 
>  
> 
> _[ **New Kid** changed Craig Tucker’s name to **Master Craig** ] _
> 
>  
> 
> _**Master Craig:** Fuck you, Douchebag_
> 
>  
> 
> _**New Kid:** That's the point, my dearest Craig. That is the point. _
> 
>  
> 
> _**Kenny McCormick:** Oh my god, I love this new Douchebag_
> 
>  
> 
> _**Tweek Tweak:** I'm confused?_
> 
> _What is going on?_
> 
>  
> 
> _**Master Craig:** It's nothing, babe. _
> 
> _Don't worry about it._
> 
>  
> 
> _[ **New Kid** revoked **Master Craig** ’s admin controls] _
> 
>  
> 
> _[ **New Kid** revoked **Tweek Tweak** ’s admin controls] _
> 
>  
> 
> _[ **New Kid** revoked **Butters Stotch** ’s admin controls] _
> 
>  
> 
> _**Tweek Tweak:** What?! _
> 
>  
> 
> _**Master Craig:** How are you doing this so fast. _
> 
>  
> 
> _**Butters Stotch:** why me too? _
> 
>  
> 
> _[ **New Kid** changed **Tweek Tweak** ’s name to **Tweekers** ] _
> 
>  
> 
> _[ **New Kid** changed **Kenny McCormick** ’s name to **Ken** ] _
> 
>  
> 
> _[ **New Kid** changed **Butters Stotch** ’s name to **Leo** ] _
> 
>  
> 
> _[ **New Kid** changed his name to **Douchebag** ] _
> 
>  
> 
> _**Douchebag** : There. All done. _
> 
>  
> 
> _**Master Craig:** What the fuck. _

 

Before I could finish typing out my reply, the bell rings, signaling the end of school. Immediately, Butters jumps up and practically sprints out the door, Douchebag following after him at a much slower pace. Before he passes through the door, he turns around and shoots me a cheeky grin and a middle finger, then disappears into the quickly forming crowd. 

 

_What the fuck is going on with him? Is he shy or is he confident? Is he cocky or is he nervous? Is he a blond or is he a noirette? Is he like Tweek or is he like Kenny?! For fucks sake. Sometimes he's as confident, irritating, and perverted as fucking McCormick, then he's as shy, paranoid, and adorable as Tweek. Wait… Adorable? Ugh… What is wrong with him? What is wrong with me?! What is he doing to me?!_

 

At some point Tweek must've packed my stuff and dragged me from the classroom. When I come out of my thoughts we are already halfway to Tweak Bros. I'll just have to come to terms with having a harem later. 

 

“Why are we going to the coffee shop? I thought we were going to my house today.” I say, surprising Tweek. _How long was I out of it?_

 

Looking back at me from where he's dragging me along, he sighs. “W-we got an u-urgent summon to the Freedom Pal base. Professor C-chaos is doing something.”

 

_Ugh. I knew he was planning something. Way to make my day worse Butters._

 

We walk the rest of the way to base in relative silence. When we reach Token’s house, we go upstairs and quickly change into our superhero outfits. Everyone decided to just leave the uniforms at Token’s after we became one group. It just makes everything simpler. 

 

Walking into the basement, we see everyone else is already here and the image of Professor Chaos is already up on the projector. I'm trying not to look at Buttlord, but I just can't help it. Instantly I see his change in attire. Before he wore blue jeans, a black shirt with flames lining the bottom, a pair of goggles, and he had a set of cardboard wings attached to his back. His outfit now is noticeably different. He is wearing a black half mask to cover his eye, an unzipped blood red jacket with the hood up covering his, apparently, blond hair, a black shirt under the jacket with a large pentagram in the center, and red gloves with a set of crosses on the back. It is extremely different from his school outfit. If you didn't know the kid, you'd think he was goth or something. 

 

Eventually noticing our arrival, Mysterion turns towards the projected image. “Alright, Chaos, we're all here.” 

 

“Ah,” he clasps his hands together and sighs as if he's been anticipating our arrival. “It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Freedom Pals.” 

 

“Cut the crap, Chaos. What do you want?” The Coon interrupts. Why did we let him back in again? 

 

A frown replace the knowing smile on Professor Chaos’ face. “Alright. As you wish.” He clears his throat and forces another smirk. “It seems to me that you all are having a little,” short pause, “trouble, getting your Netflix series off the ground. Did you forget your plan or perhaps lose your endorsement?”

 

“Fuck you, Chaos!” Human Kite yells out in a fit of rage. “You were the one that stole our money, weren't you!”

 

Chaos slowly shakes his head. “My dear Kite, I don't have the faintest clue what you mean. All I mean to do is offer you an… opportunity to get back on your feet.” 

 

At this point, Mysterion must've seen that he would have to take a more active role than just silently glaring at projection. “What is this opportunity?” he quietly speaks up. 

 

“Why, it's a second chance of sorts. While you were fighting each other, I snuck into your secret base and made a copy of your master plan. On top of that, my new partner and I have recently come across some money we would be willing to depart with.”

 

“Why are you telling us all of this, Chaos? What do you get out of this exchange?” Doctor Timothy asks, somehow…

 

“Oh I don't want much. All I want, is my own movi-” 

 

“No fucking way Chaos.” The Coon slams his hands on the table. “There's no way in hell you're getting your own movie. I won't allow it.” 

 

Without skipping a beat, Chaos’s smile grows wider. “I thought you would say that, so I took some extra… precautions to ensure I got things my way.”

 

At the end of his sentence, the camera pans around to show a comically large bag and two chairs hanging precariously over a large, roaring fire. Sitting in each chair is a figure with a black bag over their head. Walking over to them, Chaos pulls off the first mask to reveal Karen McCormick.

 

Mysterion let's out a low, intimidating growl. _If that's Karen, then I already know who the other person is._ Walking over to the other masked person, Chaos removes her bag, albeit with a lot less dramatic flare. Tricia immediately begins glaring daggers through him. _Does he really think threatening Tricia will move me to act?_

 

Instead of walking back towards the camera, like I expected him to, Chaos reaches in a black sack he has hanging from his belt. From inside, he pulls out a fluffy object and places it in Tricia’s lap. As he let's it go, the creature turns around and face the camera, its cute little nose twitch wildly.

 

Stripe. 

 

 _That motherfucker’s going to die._ “Imma kill him.” Although I thought it, I know I didn't say it. Looking to my left, I see Tweek furiously clenching and unclenching his fists. His tics, nonexistent. “I'm going to rip his head off.” 

 

“Tweek, babe, calm down. We can kill him **after** we save Stripe.” There's no reasoning with him when he gets like this. It's best to just agree and let him run it out his system. 

 

Having returned to the camera, Chaos points at the large bag. “Inside that bag, I have a picture of your plan and $4,000 cash. I made sure to take the picture with an analogue camera so Call Girl couldn't find it online. This is your one and only chance to reclaim it. I suggest you rethink your decision.”

 

“Why do you care so much about this movie all of a sudden?” Tubberware asks out of the blue. “You never cared about it before.” 

 

“Really, the movie is secondary. I couldn't care less if you succeed or fail. This is all to introduce you to my new partner. This is his party. His plan. I just want to see how far you'll be willing to go to get what you want. The decision is yours. Sacrifice two innocents, your beloved pet, and your only chance to revive your franchise, or let me win. I look forward to seeing which you choose.” 

 

At the end of his speech, he begins chuckling. Then his chuckle grows more chaotic until it becomes an almost manic laughter. Then all at once, he stops and speaks as Butters again. “OK, you can turn the camera off now.” With a cheerful smile to the cameraman, he turns around and calls, “Are you gals alright there?”

 

“We're fine!” is the response he gets back. The camera follows Chaos as he walks back over to the hanging girls and begins untying them. 

 

“I'm awful sorry about this. Eric said I should put more ‘flair’ into my act. Make it look more real.”

 

Everyone's heads snap up towards the fatass, who's just whistling away innocently. 

 

“We'll discuss **that** issue later. For now, what are we going to do about the plan.” Tupperware calls out. “Do we take him up on his offer?” 

 

“We're not done, Freedom Pals.” A new voice joins the mix. It isn't the sound of someone changing their voice but one I've never heard before. Looking around the basement, no one sees any intruders. All entrances and exits are sealed. That's when we notice Chaos's camera is still rolling. 

 

On the screen, Chaos is helping Tricia out of her chair. The fire has been put out and Chaos took off his helmet at some point. “It's really a shame isn't it,” the new voice says. “He has so much potential, but he's decided to use it for good. He would've made a great villain. It's really is sad.” 

 

“Who the hell are you?” Coon screams at the screen. I think he's getting pissed off since no one's listening to him.

 

“Who I am doesn't matter at the moment, what matters is what you're going to do. We all know Butters would never hurt anyone. It could take you a year to find us and he still wouldn't hurt them. So I am giving you an ultimatum. You have half an hour. If you can't find us in 30 minutes, this will be the last you see of those four.” The camera is focused on the girls chatting happily with Butters. 

 

“Wait. Four?” Stan asks. “There's only two of them, three if you count the guinea pig.” 

 

“I don't need a useless villain slowing me down.” The cold simplicity in which he says that chills me to the bone. I've been speaking in a monotone for years, and I don't think I'll ever sound that cold. “As the only one who knows me, you better make sure they know how serious I am, Tyler. You have half an hour. **Don't** be late.” With a manic laugh that makes Butters’s look like a puppy's bark, the camera shuts off. Laughter echoes throughout the room. Everyone is frozen stiff. 

 

It's Tweek who comes out of the stupor first. “W-w-who’s T-tyler?” With the new sound, Buttlord begins moving. Reaching in his pocket, he pulls out a piece of paper and hands it to Mysterion. 

 

“What's this, Buttlord.” With a look, we all know he's not going to answer in any way. All the color has drained from his face. The kid has never looked afraid. Not when he was fighting zombies, not when he was fighting armed government men, and definitely not when fighting any of us. But, right now he looks terrified. Scared doesn't begin to cover the emotion on his face. Looking down at the paper he was handed, Mysterion quickly reads it over. “Oh, is this a new character sheet? Let's see. Superhero: Buttlord. Alias: Douchebag an-” Mysterion’s eyes go wide as he stops talking. 

 

“And what? What does it say?” Mosquito pipes in. When Mysterion doesn't answer, he walks up take snatches the paper from his hands and begins reading himself. “Alias: Douchebag and… Tyler Menz.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And...we're down one hero.  
> How many more will fall? How many will die? How many more times can I kill Kenny off?   
> All these questions and more will be answered...eventually... or now, if you ask me nicely in the comments.

**Author's Note:**

> I'll never like the way this is written.  
> But I'm my own worst critic, so I can't trust what I think.  
> Please leave a comment to tell me what you think or give me some advice. I'd love to become a better author. If I make a mistake, correct me. All comments are greatly appreciated. They tell me you want this to continue. They encourage me to work harder and faster to get the next chapter out.


End file.
